


Goodbye to the Fiddle

by thegreatgayjatsby



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Domesticity, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hamilton posts on snapchat, Hes the sort of person that pretends to be making a documentary, M/M, Modern AU, Slice of Life, and it pisses thomas off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 13:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8627095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatgayjatsby/pseuds/thegreatgayjatsby
Summary: Hamilton spends time at Monticello, documenting his experience on snapchat. Jefferson plays the violin.





	

**Author's Note:**

> im gonna write a longer more detailed better story about a) ham going to monticello and b) jeffs playing the violin

“Hamilton! If I hear you bangin’ out _Twinkle Twinkle Little Star_ on my four thousand dollar violin one more time I’mma come over there and kick ya’ ass.”

Thomas Jefferson’s voice was sharp, but carried no real venom, and Alexander grinned at his phone before gingerly placing the instrument and its bow down into their case. The snapchat story video was shaky and low quality, but it was clear enough to make their surroundings apparent. The halls of Monticello were bright with Virginian sunlight, and the décor was specific enough that anyone who knew Jefferson knew that it was his house.

Hamilton moved through the room to turn the camera onto Jefferson, who, himself, lay on his stomach on his bed. The immigrant flopped down beside him, the camera capturing the image of Alex planting a kiss on Thomas’ cheek.

“Would you get off of snapchat and do something useful?” Thomas grouched, abandoning the novel he’d been reading in favor of drawing Hamilton into his arms.

Alexander laughed and pillowed himself back on Jefferson’s chest. “The people have a right to know,” He answered, one of Jefferson’s arms draped about his waist. “This is going to Washington. He said to not kill each other.”

“Uh, yeah, I think we probably managed that.” Thomas rolled his eyes and rested his chin on Alex’s shoulder. “In that case, hello, Mr. President.”

The shenanigans continued. Some time passed, and Hamilton filmed his exploration of Thomas’ office, providing commentary on the various half-finished doohickeys lying about. “Xander, don’t break anything,” Jefferson could be heard in the background.

The next little series of videos Hamilton posted were of Jefferson cooking dinner. They bantered, but most of the volume was shut off. The highlight of the video was Jefferson turning to look at Alex with a wry smile on his face, obviously in response to something he’d said.

Alexander’s snapchat story ended with a single video of Jefferson, illuminated by fading sunlight, on the southwest portico of the house. He was playing the violin, and Alex was listening with rapt attention. When the song came to its close, Jefferson let the violin fall away from his chin, and Hamilton left the phone on the lawn chair he’d been occupying in order to move close and kiss Thomas.

He had more important things to do than create a snapchat documentary of his time at Monticello.


End file.
